


The price of being the best

by jade_lil



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2834066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_lil/pseuds/jade_lil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s fucking him up in the inside and even he’s not sure what to do with it, or maybe he does, he’s just scared to admit it. Because he knows what chaos this emotion will cause him the minute he sees Kise again, and for all its worth, he’s not sure he’s all ready to face Kise now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sacchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacchan/gifts).



> it’s been ages, oh my god, let’s see if I still know how to do this XD Fluffy angst AoKise for Jessa :D

He’s still grumbling under his breath when he slides the door open with his foot (Satsuki’s not here to preach him about proper manners anyway, thank God for little mercies), all the while wondering how he ended up in here. 

Surely, there is some kind of proper (if not divine) explanation as to how his team, along with the other top five teams which competed in the Inter High ended up in a training camp together, but even he has doubts. 

He’s pretty sure their coaches are to blame for this, and not even Imayoshi’s perfectly crafted lies could make him think otherwise. The measured gazes that their coaches threw each other earlier would attest to that, and Aomine might be dense at some, uh, important human behavioral aspects, but he’s not that dumb. 

Surely, their collective coaches are up to something. 

He squints at the darkness that greeted him, grumbling under his breath again as he whips his phone out so he could use it to find the light switch, all the while wondering if his assigned roommate will be coming in later and who the fucker might be. 

Though he cares so little about whom he will be sharing this room with, he found himself quietly wishing for it to be anyone but Kise. 

For one, he owed the guy an apology, mostly because he’s a major dick (which of course, he wouldn’t dream of giving because he’s an asshole, amongst other things), but also because he’s got reasons that even he himself couldn’t swallow down. 

It’s fucking him up in the inside and even he’s not sure what to do with it, or maybe he does, he’s just scared to admit it. Because he knows what chaos this emotion will cause him the minute he sees Kise again, and for all its worth, he’s not sure he’s all ready to face Kise now. 

Even now, the memory of Kise’s heartbreaking face haunts him, the sight of Kise’s shaking form when his Captain picked him up from the floor where he’d been trying to stand on trembling legs. Even now, weeks after it happened, the memory alone is enough to make him want to punch himself in the face repeatedly. People may think of him as some heartless jerk who cares so little about anything or anyone but himself (and occasionally, Satsuki) but in reality, it made him sick, to the point where he even considered quitting basketball altogether, for being the person who made Kise cry. 

He heaves a sigh and drops his overnight bag to the small space next to the futon (the unrolled one), belatedly realizing that the other one looks like it has been slept in already before his gaze found two medium-sized bags parked next to it. He raises his hand and squints at his phone – it’ s just a little over eight but, oh well, he could nap for a bit and maybe, wake up after an hour to check out where they’re serving dinner. 

He hums to himself and shucks his jacket off, draping it over his overnight bag and promptly flopping down on the futon, throwing an arm over his eyes. An hour, he thinks. He’ll nap for an hour and ---

…wakes up to the familiar scent of Kise’s shampoo. 

Which is ridiculous, he thinks, still dazed with sleep as he tries to blink the sleepiness away; ridiculous because how in hell he could smell Kise’s shampoo (the fact that he even memorized the scent of it is another matter altogether) when he’s sure Kise isn’t even here? 

God, he really is fucked up in the head and he needs to do something about it before it drives him insane, shifting a little to his left with all the intention of stretching his limbs out when his movements halt to a stop when he realizes something odd. 

For one, he couldn’t move; his entire body feels like it is being held down by something heavy. He ducks down and he is met with a noseful of blond hair, and outright sneezes before he could even stop himself.

“Hmmm,” the person hums, and this close the scent of Kise’s shampoo is so strong he wonders if he’s hallucinating or what. Maybe he’s still dreaming, he thinks, trying to blink the sleepiness away at the same time the person shifts almost atop him and tucks his head under his chin. “ _Ahominechi fheels sho nice_ –“ the man murmurs, more like slurs and he freezes; he would recognize that voice anywhere, anytime, and he knows that no amount of pretending is going to be make him believe that this isn’t who he think it is. 

Fucking shit, what the hell is going on? 

“K-Ki – se?” he grounds out at the same time he tries to push the other guy by his shoulder and gets another drunken-sounding grunt in return. “Fucking hell –“ 

Kise leans up and he shivers the minute he feels Kise’s mouth against his throat, humming, arms going tight around him at the same time. His own arms are left suspended above Kise’s head, still and unmoving, as Kise moves around to probably find a comfortable position. He ducks down again and belatedly realizes that along with the heavenly scent of Kise’s aftershave and shampoo, the strong scent of sake is present, too. 

Damn it all to hell. 

God, he needs to – he has to -- “Get your bloody hands off me, you drunken ---“ he rasps out, breathless, feeling a little hysterical at the simple fact that Kise is so close like this, and drunk, god. He tries to free himself but Kise’s hold around him is stronger, cursing under his breath as he prepares to shove the drunken blond off him but stops short when he hears something odd – a hitching sound of some sort before everything falls silent again. 

He stays perfectly still and waits – and wishes that he didn’t. 

“How many times do you plan on breaking my heart, Aominechi?” Kise mouths into the fabric of his shirt, his whole frame still trembling; it takes Aomine a moment to realize the slur is gone and in its place, something that makes the terrible twisting in his gut worse. 

He is still as a statue as another tremor rocks Kise’s spine he wonders if it ended up seeping right through him because the next time he blinks, he is shaking too. 

“Kise –“ 

“Is it so hard, Aominechi? Is it so hard for you to look at me differently? Not a rival, a former classmate, but as a person? Is it hard? Because for me, you’re neither – and I –“ 

“Don’t,” he finds himself muttering, fingers shaking as he lets them drop on Kise’s shoulders. Kise stills but he’s not unburying his face from where he has it mashed against Aomine’s chest, and Aomine wishes he could pretend he hates this, too. And that’s the worst part because he doesn’t, because he actually likes this – the feel of Kise in his arms, soft and pliant, so close that he only needs to lean down a bit and he’d be able to breathe in Kise’s scent in. 

“Don’t say anything,” he murmurs, closing his eyes and pressing a soft kiss against the top of Kise’s head. 

He’s out the door before Kise even manages to call his name.

/tbc


	2. Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I miss KnB :'(

 

He ended up at one of the benches surrounding the training grounds. 

It is dark out here; the lights from the lamp posts aren’t lit and he has to carefully tiptoe around plants and stone bricks just to avoid stumbling on one as he walks. His chest is heaving hard and he knows it isn’t because he is tired. He has to jog all the way from the room he is sharing with Kise to here, afterall, only stopping when he knows he’s far enough and the path is too dark for him to see where he is going. 

He flops down onto one of the benches there; blinking slowly at the space before him and willing the memories of Kise’s heartbreaking face away, but it’s difficult. Especially after what happened a while back, when he had Kise in his arms, perfectly pliant, as if he’d rather be anywhere than there, snuggled close to him and breathing him in. 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he puts his head in between his hands. His chest feels like it is being squeezed hard by a pair of invisible fists that it’s getting difficult to breath, much more think. 

 _How many times do you plan on breaking my heart, Aominechi?,_ Kise had _asked_ – _slurred_ – and he wonders if it was just the alcohol talking. But then Kise followed it with _, Is it so hard, Aominechi? Is it so hard for you to look at me differently? Not a rival, a former classmate, but as a person? Is it hard? Because for me, you’re neither_ – and damn if it wasn’t enough for him to do something he knew he would regret later but thankfully, he was able to walk away from Kise before he did something equally stupid. 

Though right now, as he squints blearily at the dark, he wonders which is stupider – walking away from something he knows he wants so badly or staying long enough to find out if the one he is walking away from wants the same thing or not. 

To be honest, it would be dumb of him to think otherwise, what with the way Kise had curled himself against him, the way Kise had mumbled things into his chest that made walking away from the other guy felt like it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to decide in his life but had to anyway. 

He breathes carefully through his nose and very nearly suffered a heart attack when, the next time he opens his eyes, he is met with a pair of short legs standing opposite him, before the owner of said legs stoop down and mumbles, “Aomine-kun, hello,” 

“God fucking damn it, Tetsu!” he half-yells, jerking back and howling a pained cry when his hips bump against the wooden bench. “What the fuck – make some noise, will you?! You fucking nearly killed me, shit!” 

Kuroko simply shrugs and goes to sit next to him. “Did something happen, Aomine-kun? “ the smaller guy asks, his voice unmistakably even. Aomine feels like decking him but it’s difficult when he is also trying not to scream or cry. 

Of all the fucking time for Tetsu to appear, really, he has to do it when Aomine is a fucking mess. God damn it. 

“Yes, fuck,” he curses, rubbing the front of his chest where he’s damn heart is still thumping crazily underneath. Trust Tetsu to scare the fuck out of him one moment and make him feel so damn relaxed the second after. “you nearly fucking killed me, that’s what happened,” he grunts, not bothering sparing Tetsu a look. 

Tetsu hums, obviously unaffected. “You can lie better than that, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu says, “come on, tell me something,” 

“Tell you what, exactly?” 

He looks up to find Tetsu already staring expectantly at him. “I saw you ran out of your room as if the devil was after you,” Tetsu begins, and Aomine quietly swears at the rush of unbidden memories flooding him then – of Kise’s warmth clinging into his skin, the scent of Kise’s shampoo arresting his senses. 

“It wasn’t –“ 

“ – and I know you’re rooming with Kise-kun,” Tetsu cuts in, “So, did something happen?” the blue-haired boy continues, and Aomine wonders if his face is on fire with how damn hot his cheeks suddenly feel like. 

“Nothing,” he bites out, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and letting the defiance on his face speaks for itself. Tetsu can speculate all he wants but Aomine’s not that stupid to tell him what he’s so obviously already know himself.  “Nothing happened, I don’t even know what you’re –“ he says, at the same time he turns to face Tetsu, but stops, words caught in his throat the moment he realizes Tetsu is throwing himself on his lap and Tetsu’s arms are wrapping themselves around his neck. 

“Woah there!” he half-screams, but his words, just like earlier, has been cut short the second Tetsu’s mouth caught his, stealing his breath and his ability to think as Tetsu kisses him.

 


End file.
